Wonderland
by katiaroza
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament is proving to be an unpredictable and very dangerous time for Hogwarts. However, as the year and tournament progress, Izzi can't help but feel that something darker is looming just on the horizon.


**_This is one I've had cooking away for quite a while. Anyway, initially inspired by friends love of Twilight, and my willingness to write about just about anything I guess. Few nods in that directions, as well as toward the film, _The Fountain_. If you've seen it, you'll probably get it._

**_Disclaimer:_ **_I do not own anything from Harry Potter, and nor do I make any profit from the writing of this story._

_**Warnings:** Alright for now, but hitting on some heavy stuff in later chapters. _

* * *

**Wonderland**

**Chapter One**

* * *

It was good to be back; home as I often called it.

No matter how bittersweet a homecoming tonight would be. It was our last year here, for my friends and I. We were all excited to finish our schooling, and move on to the open world. And what a world it would be; I was already getting the impression.

The final turn exposed the silhouette of the castle in the dying light, its grandeur not at all seeming diminished. Not even from so far away. Though, it could've simply been my bias, but I honestly didn't much care.

It may have been a dumb thing to feel, but I always found myself in a sense of relief at the thought of going back to school every September. Most other teenagers dreaded the thought of going back for another semester, but not me. It always felt better to me . . . safer.

I was aware that many of my schoolmates felt some level of relief in coming back every year. It was because that at school, we didn't have to cover up our magical abilities or existence from the uncomfortably perceptive muggles. That made a lot of us happy.

In truth, Hogwarts was more comfortable to me than home, with my parents, did.

I justified this by purposefully thinking that it was really because I was eager to begin my career. To complete my adolescent studies and finally become a full-fledged, productive member of society. I would say that it was for my friends, that they made my life such a joy, I couldn't help but want to go back to school.

There was only one person I couldn't fool: me. I knew exactly what made me want to go back, more than anything. I would never willingly admit it of course, but I couldn't help how he made me feel. I didn't want to help it either.

Above that, it was my last year attending the school, which excited me in ways that were both good and bad. After this year's semester, there was nothing more holding me, or my classmates, back from the world; and there was nothing holding it back from us.

My view to the outside was suddenly distorted – my breath had condensed on the window and fogged it up – and I abruptly found myself arriving in reality once more. The train compartment was quiet, which could have been likely due to the low occupancy. No one spoke, but it wasn't a bad thing. There was nothing in the atmosphere to suggest anything negative . . . just silence.

There was nothing, for me, to talk about with anyone in the compartment; the only person I wanted to talk to wasn't there.

I turned back to the window, and saw the scenery starting to slow.

We were almost home.

* * *

They were all excited, chatting with each other, catching up on the summer, exchanging interesting new stories. I could hear them all even still inside the train compartment, the wall of noise permeating the wall of the train.

My eyes were searching – almost frantically – the hallways of the train, hoping that I would find him. I knew it was a pointless feat; the Prefects' compartment was in a different car. Damn him and his perfectness.

I stepped outside the car, the evening air greeting me like an old friend, as cool breezes swept through my hair. I immediately put a hand up to stay the dark brown strands that threatened to blow out of place. It was hard enough to tend to the new style I had gotten for the new semester; I didn't want all of my effort to have been for naught.

The platform was absolutely bustling with people – fellow students. I wasn't even aware that so many were in attendance. It was a task to rake through the crowd, to even spot _one_ familiar face. Spotting _his_ was going to be near impossible.

I sighed, watching the confusion in the faces of the school's younger students, hoping that this mess was likely to straighten itself out. And soon.

Someone groaned beside me. I looked up, spotting _one_ familiar face at least. Ari Chinlund stood beside me, only a slight bit taller than myself. Her platinum blonde, straight-cut bangs falling into her dark brown eyes carelessly. Her long locks tumbling down her back effortlessly.

"What?" I asked her dully.

She rolled her eyes with a quirky sort of half-grin. "Hate this," she grumbled, "Every fuckin' year. . ."

I laughed at her reaction. We may not have seen each other all summer, but she was still the same old predictable girl I knew from last term.

"Yeah, yeah . . . 'Stupid firsties stuck in our way'."

Beside Ari, stood our friend, Fara Whiter, whom I'd obviously failed to notice earlier. Unlike Ari, however, Fara was much shorter than either of us. She was a petite girl, with dark skin, stemming from her East Indian descent, with dark eyes and hair to match.

I shifted my weight on to one foot, sticking my hip out as I folded my arms over my chest. "So, its nice of the two of you to finally show up." I jibbed them teasingly.

"Sorry mate," Fara apologized defensively, "But we almost missed the train; _Ari_ apparently has issues in remembering her wand in the morning" – she shot a look to out blonde friend – "We had to double back half way to London. By the time we got here, all the compartments were filled up and we couldn't find you. We had to share with Slytherin fifthies!"

I laughed. "Nice," I said, " 'Spose I didn't had it _quite_ as bad as you two then . . . worst of my trip was a virulent lack of conversation."

My mind wandered as Ari and Fara gossiped and argued with each other. I couldn't help my imagination from running wild with the possibilities of what if . . .

"So," Ari's mocking voice cut through my hazy thoughts, "Where is you dear Cedric, Izzi?" Her grin was wide, as was Fara's. It was a favourite pastime of theirs to jib me about the whole affair. Not that they knew my true feelings, of course; it was purely speculation on their part.

I frowned. "Wouldn't know." I replied coolly, "He's always with the Prefects' carriage. Beyond that, I haven't seen him." I couldn't help but be just a little bit hurt by this, or show it either. The Diggory's had always been close friends with my parents, so naturally, Cedric Diggory and I had grown up together. It may have been silly for me, but not being able to spend the train ride with him – or any of my friends for that matter – really upset me.

"Oh leaver her, Ari," Fara joined in, her tone mocking as well, "Can't you tell she misses her _beloved_ already?"

"Ha ha." I replied sarcastically, "You guys are _hilarious_!" I folded my arms across my chest once more and turned to see if the crowd had managed to disperse at all.

Again, I heard my friends giggling behind me. Probably still going on about 'my_ beloved_' or something stupid like that. I should have been used to it by now, but still . . .

"Speak of the devil . . ." Ari's laughing voice mused.

I had hardly a moment to contemplate her words before I felt someone come up behind me.

"Nice hair," the familiarly deep voice came from behind me, his arm wrapped around my waist, as he greeted me with a hug.

I twisted myself so I could face him, greet him back. I had to stifle a gasp when I saw his chocolate brown eyes staring back deliciously into mine. I blushed, and ignored the violent giggles coming from my dear _friends_.

"Thanks, Ced." I smiled back, fingering the tips shyly. It was a habit of mine to act reserved when people would compliment me on my change. "Thought it was finally time for something new."

He smiled that small, quirky smile. The one I absolutely loved. "Well," he said, taking a few of my dark tresses tenderly with his fingers, "I like it. Suits you well."

I was instantly relieved for the darkened sky, afraid that in the day, he would have noticed my now extremely obvious blush. I caught my breath in fear that he really would notice when he helped me up on to the horseless carriage; our faces came so close.

As we sat there, travelling with our friends – Ari, Fara, and a few others from our dorm – up to the school, we talked frivolously about the most trivial of things. I listened, though however distantly, to the girls' conversation, gossip flooding my ears. Most of it seemed pretty much pointless to me, but I did find myself laughing and even interested at some points.

We were only a few yards from the school entrance, when I found that I could no longer conceal my glee. My knees were bouncing anxiously, as I tried, in vain, to dispel my mood. Delight had been flooding through my being all day, irrational, unexplained delight, but delight nonetheless.

"What's got you so wound up?" Cedric asked, holding on to the seat's edge to brace himself against the abrupt stop.

I almost fell off mine, as I was so distracted by my euphoria. But, my wide, tooth-baring grim remained even as I struggled not to fall. We both laughed when he had to catch me.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Can't you feel it, Ced? The air's thick with it!" I declared happily.

He laughed at me. "Well, _you're_ the psychic, Izzi, not me! How would I know?" he countered, shoving me playfully down the carriage steps.

I waited until he joined me on the ground, where I leaned up to him, ignoring the butterflies I'd all but swallowed. "Something big is gonna happen!" I hissed excitedly, "Something _huge_! Something that hasn't happened in a while, and now they're all excited over it!"

Cedric grabbed my arm to hold me from literally bouncing ahead. I tried not to notice how close his grip was to my hand. "_What_ on Earth are you talking about? What's happening? Who's excited?"

I smiled again, even wider this time. I ignored his questions, as I instead grabbed his hand back, pulling him so we could join the rest of our friends.

* * *

All around, students were bustling with the excitement I had foreseen dominating the evening. Everyone wanted to know what was going on, and I couldn't blame them. The school's visitors made quite the spectacle in arriving, no doubt aiming to impress, and impress they had.

"Oh, this is just maddening!" Ari gushed, across the table from me, "I'm dying even to know who our visitors are!"

"That ship that arrived in the lake is Durmstrang's. They're somewhere from the northern Baltics . . ." I informed her thoughtfully, "And that flying carriage is French . . . Beauxbatons, I think . . ."

Silence befell Ari, as she turned to Fara, completely gobsmacked. "How does she know . . . ?"

I didn't catch Fara's response, however, as I'd then turned to Cedric, beside me, who was eyeing me suspiciously. He knew alright, and I was guilty as charged.

I smiled and looked away, into nothingness. "You're lovely Viktor Krum is going to be here . . ." I mused, turning my head so I could watch his reaction, "Maybe want to relay _that_ to your friends . . . ?"

Cedric's eyes widened before be narrowed them again; to interrogate me. "You're kidding." His statement was cold. I knew he wasn't a supporter of the Bulgarians . . . but a quidditch star is a quidditch star, and a quidditch fan is still a quidditch fan.

"I'm not," I countered matter-of-factly, "He goes to Durmstrang."

"There's no way," he shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face.

I smiled victoriously. "Thought you of all people would know, being 'Mr Quidditch-Head and all." I chastised him jokingly.

Cedric laughed and turned to me once more. "So what's the good news then?"

I stifled my laugh.

* * *

The Triwizard Tournament.

If I had thought the hall was bustling with excitement before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Famished as they were, students still found the time to chatter excitedly about Dumbledore's words shortly before the start of the feast.

Cedric had stopped asking me about what the night's grand even was going to be; he'd figured it was the tournament and I figured with like. I knew little of the details of the Triwizard Tournament, but I _did_ know that it was a huge event. Dangerous too.

It wasn't long before the hall's occupants finished their meals and stared at the front, awaiting further announcements. Even our visitors – Beaxbatons sitting with the Ravenclaws, and Durmstrang sitting with the Slytherins – and those eagerly talking with them silenced themselves as the Headmaster once against took to the stage.

The curiosity of those in the hall was further increased when several ministry workers entered the hall, collectively carrying a structure that was large and ornate, on something that resembled a gurney. Every pair of eyes in the hall turned to the new arrival, as the chatter ceased and the eating stopped.

I even found _myself_ intrigued by everything that was going on. Like everyone else, my attention followed the ministry workers and the arrangement they carried, until they reached the head of the hall and set it down on a table that had been previously placed there.

Someone's throat cleared, breaking through the thick atmosphere. It was only then that anyone noticed that the Headmaster had stood up to address us all.

"Your attention, please!" Professor Dumbledore called out to the hall, and any chatter that had managed to survive, abruptly stopped, "I would like to say a few words," He continued as he placed his hand on the tall (I now realised) structure, "_Eternal glory_," No doubt he was now talking about the Triwizard Tournament, "That is what awaits the student who _wins_ the Triwizard Tournament."

That caught a lot of ears. I saw faced lighting up all around me, like Christmas Trees. I glanced over at Cedric, and as I suspected, his was one of them.

"But to do this," the Headmaster continued, "That student must survive three tasks." Something stirred in the back of my mind. This wasn't going to be any run-of-the-mill marathon. No, this was going to be something else. "_Three . . . EXTREMELY_ dangerous tasks."

No, this was definitely not going to be any marathon. The atmosphere was mixed. The younger students were apprehensive . . .almost frightened of this news. The older and more daring students, however, were buzzing with excitement and anxiety. I could nearly feel Cedric buzzing with the excitement of getting to jump into this the first moment he saw.

Dumbledore continued on. "For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit, to impose a new rule." He paused for a moment, and I knew that there were going to be many who were going to have their dreams of winning this tournament crushed. "To explain all this, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, Mr Bartemius Crouch."

I saw movement – we all did – in behind the chairs of the staff's table. A well-dressed man, in his mid-fifties, was stepping forward, no doubt this was Bartemius Crouch. He had intention – that much was clear. Mild, but getting stronger. Something felt off – I didn't know what it was. I looked over to Cedric, my eyebrows furrowed. His face was set stone and serious. His complete game face, concentrated entirely on what was happening up front. Well, maybe not _entirely_.

His gaze moved down to meet mine. His expression changed to match my own confused features, wondering why I seemed so worried. I was about to open my mouth to tell him I was fine, but that there was something off –

The lightening in the magical ceiling lit up like fireworks. I cringed with everyone else. It was loud, it was bright. It rarely got so intense within these walls. It was frightening – it couldn't hurt us – but it was definitely unnerving. Someone from the front sent a spell up to calm the ceiling down, and the lightening stayed subdued.

I felt at ease once more, and I couldn't help but laugh. Cedric looked down at me, confused, again. I laughed some more. "I'm way too jumpy." And I turned back to the front. But, something was still wrong.

* * *

Cedric and I had known each other almost our entire lives. We literally grew up together, seeing as our childhood homes were only a couple of hours walking distance – no problem for play dates when you had magical parents. So, naturally, we'd both come to know quite a lot about the other. I knew all of his fears, ambitions, quirks and fancies, and likewise, he knew all of mine.

My family had moved from the countryside into a London suburb right before we'd gone off to school. Of course, that hadn't exactly stifled our relationship, having been both sorted into Hufflepuff. It was inevitable – at least, to me – that we would have grown apart in some ways. We hung out with the same people, generally, but Cedric had fast proven himself to be the more outgoing, people-friendly out of the two of us. Where as, I always seemed to only meet new people through the friends I already had.

I stared at the fire, raging in the common room fireplace. It was cold and rainy outside, we could tell, even from our basement common room. It was times like these that I wished the house elves _hadn't_ bewitched the windows to show the outside weather. At least they knew how to make a nice fire. I began to feel sleepy in my flannel pajama bottoms, and oversized sweatshirt, as the book I'd been trying to read had been long abandoned on the floor.

"Don't even try it." I said blandly, putting an end to Cedric's attempt to startle me.

I heard him sigh and pout. "You spoil all my fun, Izzi," he complained as he flopped down on the couch beside me. He, too, had changed into his night clothes, and come down to enjoy the raging inferno, no doubt.

"I fill your life with oodles of fun," I argued childishly. I made the mistake of looking over into his direction, only to have the pit of my stomach drop out from under me in that devastatingly painful way.

It was only shortly after our separate social statuses at school had been sorted out, that I'd found myself completely infatuated with my best friend. I didn't know what it was about him, but I completely adored him. I tried my best to fight these feelings for the first year or so, but half-ways through my fifth year, I gave up and let that stupid little crush devour me. I knew it was the stupid hormones raging through me that made me react the way I did, I couldn't help _that_, but I had actually found myself surprised at how I didn't need to police my actions from becoming like all of those other girls who found themselves falling over at Cedric's charm.

"Horrible, torturous, sadistic fun," Cedric muttered under his breath like a pouting four-year-old.

I raised my eyebrows. I heard him completely, and even if I hadn't . . . "What was that?" I questioned him, my arms folding over my chest.

"You could've told me about the Tournament, Izzi," he said, suddenly serious, "You should know me by now. It's not like I would've gone off telling the whole school."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on me. He was talking about how I hadn't been clearer about what the whole buzz was about _before_ Dumbledore told us all. My heart sank when I noted the hurt in his voice; he's genuinely been hurt by the perceived lack of trust I had in him. I shook my head immediately. "No, no, no, Ced," I quickly reassured him, "I didn't know _what_ it was. I only knew it was _something_. Really."

His eyebrows raised in response. "Really really?'

I raised my right arm. "Scouts honour."

"Scouts honour?" he repeated sceptically, "Izzi, you were never _in_ scouts!"

"Yeah, so?" I defended myself.

He shrugged, slumping down in his seat, trying to fight the oncoming sleep just as hard as I was.

"I'm really not lying," I told him, all serious now.

He sighed, turning to me and gazing up at me with those dangerously gorgeous eyes. "I know," he admitted, "I just like getting a rise out of you!"

My face twisted into an indignant pout as I swatted him on his arm. "Yeah, well, stop it," I commanded. I looked around the common room, finding it pleasantly empty. At least I could talk to him a little _more_ freely. "You're my best mate, Ced," I told him, "I'd tell you anything, you know that, right?"

I expected an honest and easy 'yes' out of him, or at least something that relayed the affirmative. Unfortunately, that was not what I received.

"No, I don't know that, Izzi," he told me, and to my horror, I thought that he had somehow managed to figure out my most secret of feelings, "But, I don't expect it either. There's got to be _something_ that you wouldn't even tell _me_." He paused a moment, and I felt my heart both soar and sink. I had no idea what he meant, and I wasn't completely sure if I wanted to.

"Anyway," he continued on when I failed to respond, "I'm tired, and going to bed. I'll see you in the morning, kay?"

My eyes followed him blankly as he stood, waving as he made his way to the boys' dorms. I waved back dumbly, my mind still stubbornly whirling around what he could have meant.

Slowly and tiredly, I too, climbed to my feet and made my way to the girls' dorms. I mentally kicked myself for everything that I had done, and everything that I had not foreseen.

Some clairvoyant I was.

* * *

**_That's it for now. Review and wait I guess!_

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